


Trouble With Wings (A rewrite)

by DarkRedWolf12



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Maybe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 05:46:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11914458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkRedWolf12/pseuds/DarkRedWolf12
Summary: Rose is an oddity, one of the last remaining Valkyries after the angels killed all of her kind. Essentially she accidentally meets the Winchesters. Rose, although not fully trusted, is allowed to join them due to Cas knowing her.I honestly don't even know where this will go or what's up, I just found the old one and decided to rewrite it, ya know?If it's still cringe, I apologize lol. I'm trying this time to actually try and make something good. This'll be I guess my third/fourth fanfic.PS I obviously don't own Spn, or its characters. I just own my OCs and writings.





	Trouble With Wings (A rewrite)

**Author's Note:**

> I have literally no idea what I'm doing, and most of this was rewritten between 2 - 5 am today so like. Woo, Insomnia! \ o /
> 
> And again, I don't own Spn... I wish tho. So uh, don't sue me.

With a grunt of pain and annoyance of gaining consciousness, I force my eyes open. It takes me a second to realize what has woken me. First off, a nice and horrible freezing wind is hitting my back. Second, somewhere nearby I can hear the floor boards creaking, the ‘tmph’ sound of hard leather shoes hitting the floor. From the sound of it, there must be two people walking around. Upon taking this information in, I decide to sit up and prepare myself. If whomever is nearby comes near me, I need to be ready to fight, and laying on the ground isn’t going to help with that very much.

With a muffled cry of pain I manage to shift into somewhat of a sitting position. I take in the room around me in surprise; I don’t recognize it. The floors and walls are made of hard oak wood, as well as a heavy desk in the corner. I’m leaned up against a bed shoved up against the far wall, and in front of me is a, surprise surprise, wood door. The source of my pain, and the cold wind, is explained away by the glass covering the floor, bed, and myself. With a glance behind, I find a large window that’s been busted open. I can only assume that I’m the one who did it, considering the shards stuck in my skin and wings. Annoyed I pull a few of the smaller pieces out of my hands, those that didn’t manage to break the skin, while listening once more for the footsteps outside. They’ve stopped.  
I close my eyes and listen as hard as I can. Over the wind, I can pick slight snippets of two men speaking. I can’t exactly make out what they’re saying, but whatever it is it can’t be good considering I probably broke into their house. I say probably as I can’t quite recall, I must’ve hit my head upon getting in here. What I can recall, as I think about it, is that Jedrek is most likely still nearby. Which means I need to get out of here. Hopefully the voices belong to humans, and not him and one of his followers. If it is humans, I really don’t want to have to deal with them. Humans just freak out at random things.  
Such as my wings, and well, not to mention the added bonus of breaking in. Although, I can’t blame ‘em about the latter reason.

Speaking of my wings, they ache like hell. I move them around so I can see them, I’m somewhat confident that if the footsteps have stopped and the men are still speaking, I’ll likely have at least a few more moments to myself. Some smaller pieces of glass are stuck in my feathers. I shake them out just before there’s a searing pain in my left wing. After feeling around for a moment, I find a medium sized piece of glass has gotten wedged into my left wing just a bit above where it connects to my back. Fantastic.  
I want to pull it out, but I can’t see it right and I’m worried I could do more bad than good taking it out. Plus, upon removing said piece of glass, I could start bleeding more than I already am. With a small huff, I leave the glass piece in before leaning on the bed to stand up. I do a quick check about the rest of my body. My muscles ache from previously fighting, and from the window, but otherwise I seem mostly unharmed.

The footsteps outside my small room start up again. One pair heads away from my door, while the other comes straight for it. My wings fluff up as adrenaline suddenly pours through my veins like a released waterfall. Please just be a human… I think as I stare at the door. My fight or flight response begins to kick in, quite literally. I stand up as I think of my choices. Although sadly at the moment, I’m not exactly in a good state to fly. Fight it is. 

As the door is suddenly thrown open, I shrink back. On the other side of it is a… well, it’s just a human. But he’s giant. The man is at least 6’, his body appear to be pure muscle and scars. His hair is short and black, freckles dot his face giving him a slightly childish look. He would almost be cute if he wasn’t downright terrifying. The man stares with his piercing emerald green eyes as he takes in the scene before him. It only takes him a second to react before he pulls a gun from his jeans.

“The hell? Sam!” He yells out.

Clearly I’ve screwed this poor guy’s day. He is not happy to see a winged girl in what is possibly his room, and he probably isn’t too happy about the window either. I would jump out the window and just book it out of here, but at the moment I’m staring down the barrel of his gun. With how quickly he pulled it out, I doubt he’d be slow to shoot me and I’d rather not take any chances. Getting shot is not high on my list of priorities today.

From the other room I hear a muffled “Yeah?” before heavy footsteps tramp over. If I thought the first guy was scary, this one seems almost worse. If it’s even possible, the new human, “Sam”, is even taller than the other one. Although, his demeanor and longer brown hair make him seem slightly less intimidating. I decide almost immediately I like this human over the other. The newcomer, Sam, seems just as shocked as he appears in the door way. It takes him an extra second to grab his own gun from his jeans. I stare them both down silently, and no one speaks for a few moments.  
I backtrack, trying to think of a cover. Hey, just your friendly neighborhood thief? I successfully hide a laugh at the thought. No way. Ugh. I’ve got nothing. As I stare them down, I come to see that I may actually know them. Or maybe not. They’re different than other humans I’ve met, that’s for sure, so I think I’d recall meeting them but I’m not entirely sure. A nagging at the back of my head tells me I do in face somehow recognize them.

“Who are you?” The shorter haired man demands, his eyes trailing over to the window, the glass along the floor and then once more to my slightly bloodied appearance.

“Name’s Rose.” I declare, my voice just as hostile.

“What… are you?” Sam asks.

I cast a glance at him. Even if I said, I doubt it’d make sense to two random humans. Then again, I do slightly recognize them. A thought then pops into my head. Could they be hunters? And if they are, would that be good or bad for me? I scowl slightly at them trying to fully take in the situation. What do I do? …I can’t exactly fight at the moment, I’m hurt, weakened, and they’ve got guns. Can’t fly. And from all the fighting and running earlier, I’m really just too exhausted to deal with much more.  
I guess then that the shorter haired man figures I’ve had enough time to think and respond as he does so for me.

“You’re an angel, aren’t you,” He pauses, thinking for a moment of something that seems to be bothering him. “Why can we see your wings?” His voice has been confused and accusing, and now it is more so at his admission.

“Not… exactly.” I respond.

Maybe they are hunters then. Or… well, it would take a blind man to not see me for what I look like. I huff again as both of their frowns deepen. A sudden awareness sneaks into my head, and a single word appears in my mind’s eye. Winchesters. I stare at them as a bit of horror sets in. Once more I ask the horrible question to myself. Is that good or bad for me? I suppose I now know why I had recalled knowing them, every creature aside from most humans know who they are. The killing machines, full of fury and frightening skill in their line of work.

“Are you… the Winchesters?” I continue, keeping my voice level and semi-calm.

I may know Sam’s name, and that they are in fact the Winchesters. But I can’t remember the other man’s name. They glance at one another during my thought before short-haired speaks for them both.  
He practically growls his next sentence. “Answer my damn question.”

I cross my arms over my chest before I hesitantly mutter out “I’m a… Valkyrie. We’re, related to… angels. I guess”.  
I shiver slightly upon admitting it to them, as well as from the damned wind coming in. I can’t help but notice their guns, which neither of them have lowered so far, seem to have moved up to steadily aim at my heart and brain. Sam thinks for a moment. “Right… Why are you in Bobby’s cabin?”

“I literally have no idea who that is, and… I don’t have to tell you anything more.” I briskly declare.

The two men glance at one another, seemingly having a silent conversation I’m not allowed in on. One of slight movements, eye glances and wariness rather than speaking. They both seem to be stunned; I most certainly caught them by surprise. Short-haired gives me a final look before lowering his gun and leaving the room. I relax slightly, now only having one gun aimed at me, but after a moment’s thought I begin to tense up even more so. I want to know what he’s going to do. I especially want to know what they’re going to do to me. 

With a bit of pain and a wince, I take my fluffed up wings and pull them closer to my back. Even though I know I can’t fly at the moment, he probably doesn’t. Attempting to make myself less of a threat seems my best chance at not getting shot as far as I can tell. Maybe I should tone down on my irritability too. They’re just confused humans. I shift backwards, holding my hands up, before I gently sit on the edge of the bed. Sitting down on something soft is a relief, and Sam shifts a bit in response. His gun lowers a little, I’m not sure if he gets what I’m doing exactly, but he is still most certainly on guard.  
From the other room comes the sound of flapping wings. They aren’t hurried or frantic sounding, but gentle. Soft and somehow knowing. I stare past Sam to try and get a glimpse of what’s happening, but I can’t see anything from where I am. My brain begins to connect a few dots as I continue to stare past him. Angel? I wonder in surprise. I can’t help but also be angry and a tad fearful. Angels killed most of my kind in the past, during the time they hunted after Nephilim’s and other ‘abominations’ that were like, but not exactly, in their image. Short-hair is gone for quite a few minutes, and over the still blowing wind I can barely hear him talking to someone.

He finally returns, with someone in his wake. This new man is comparatively shorter than the other two, but he still towered over my 4’ 11”. The man’s hair is a dark brown, so much so it appears to be black at first glance. His hair is disheveled as though he just stood in a wind-tunnel. A tan trench-coat covers his body and underneath I see a black suit. He wears a tie, but it appears to be on backwards. I would laugh at the mistake if everything wasn’t so tense at the moment. I shrink back slightly as he comes closer to me, not only due to height difference but because this new man feels different. He’s got some sort of power… I feel it. I accuse him mentally. Definitely an angel. 

The new man briskly walks past Sam, and comes much closer than I would deem comfortable. As he comes close, my mental pact to try to be less brisk is immediately broken. No way can I be nice to this guy. He stands about a foot away, staring at me. He takes in my dirty and slightly torn clothes, my wings and then my eyes. We both stare, silently trying to take in the other. My heart begins pounding away in my chest, to be so close to an angel should be a sin in its own right. I feel slightly angry towards this angel, but at the same time empty. I want to leave, to get out of here. Away from not just these killers, but the prying eyes. I’m used to being on my own, not gawked at. I hate it. I’m about to say so before I’m cut off by the angel.

“Rose?” He questions.

I stare at him, not just looking or taking in his Grace, but this time a harsh stare. A “What the hell” kind of stare.  
I question him back, not truly answering. “Have we met?”

“Once… A long time ago. My name is Castiel.” His voice is plain and deep, but at the end of his sentence it has a tinge of sadness to it.  
I look downwards at the floor before looking back up. I put a bit of heat in my voice. “I don’t know you.”

He looks away for a moment, over at the wall to my left, then at the floor. He seems unsure of what to say. Behind him the Winchesters seem just as surprised as I am by this new development. I feel only slightly bad as he seems upset, but I am certainly still angry at him. As he looks at me again, he seems to finally register the fact I’m hurt. Raising his right hand, he extends his pointer and middle finger to my forehead. I flinch backwards automatically, barely stopping myself from kicking him away. The men still have their guns out, and I’m sitting in front of a full blown angel. Kicking him would probably not be in my best interest. He pauses before speaking.

“I was going to heal you, I don’t mean to hurt you.” 

I shake my head as I reply. “Even if that is true, you can’t. Remember what your kind did?”


End file.
